One Shots in Time and Space
by Beingextremelycleveruphere
Summary: A Collection of My Doctor Who One Shots. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW :)
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor gave a last smile to Amelia Pond before jumping back into the ruined TARDIS. "Geronimo!" He shouted gleefully as he slid down through the wrecked console room. Grabbing the old sandy columns that had crashed down as he had regenerated, he managed to hoist him self over and crawl to the console. Bits were broken and charred but he figured there would be one old trip left in the old girl before she went down for her nap. He groaned as he pushed himself up onto the seat that lay half broken. He stumbled over to the console, his feet skidding. New feet and all that. Thank goodness for the TARDIS gravity. Pocket Dimensions were cool. He thought. He smiled at that. Cool. He was going to use that alot.

Amelia had said he was funny. That was good. Funny was good- he needed to be funny again. Beat being rude. But at the same time he missed being rude. A new face, new personality. Same memories. But he wasn't going to think about all that. He pulled a lever and the TARDIS jolted, straightening mid flight. "5 minutes, old girl." he said quietly. 5 minutes and then back to Pond. She was special, a little girl with a brave heart and a scary crack...Then he was racing off down a spiral staircase to the TARDIS wardrobe, jumping down the last few steps. Passing all the audacious and frankly bizarre items of clothing, he gambled over to the mirror.

"Let's see what we have then." He said before stepping in front and staring at his reflection. "Wow!" he exclaimed. It was all new. Not even a shred of the lanky nerd type he had been before. Shame, that regeneration had been good at running. He'd have to test this one later. But the chin! He stroked it, it was so odd. But not that big. Bigger than he had had but surely not _that _big!

"Blimey! The hair!" He cried, hands shooting up. Damn it, not even close to ginger. The hair was big too. Brown...again and floppy. He needed to brush it...and get rid of all his hair gel. But what are you gonna do? He was funny. He knew that. Funny...with a massive chin. He could work with that. He'd worked with less. He checked all over his body. He was glad he had all functional and ordinary body parts and limbs. A friend of his that had been on Gallifrey one regeneration and got 3 arms. Really useful for piano playing but the Doctor didn't want to play piano. Not now anyway.

The mirror had a crack in the centre, so it was difficult to see the face. Wide nose, and deep set eyes and a curved mouth and- "My Eyebrows!" His hands flew to his new face, he rubbed around abit before locating the small eyebrows and breathing a sigh of relief. He had eyebrows...that was good. That was cool.

The TARDIS gave a shudder and a great thump and the Doctor hurried back and out of the doors, Sexy shutting behind him for a nap.

_Amelia Pond...what adventure's we'll have._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys! Thought I would take a break from Monsters in the Mist and this one shot has been circulating around my mad old brain for ages!**

**As always, if you like it, please review. This is meant as a one-shot but if anyone has nay prompts for another one-shot or fan fic then I'll see what I can do for you guys!**

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****The Doctor's hearts were breaking. Amelia Pond and Rory Williams. The Girl who Waited and the Last Centurion. The Legs and the Nose. Gone.

He sat alone in his TARDIS. The gold walls and console glittered, a mirror of the drabby outside of the blue box. He sat on the leather chair. His face in his hands, quietly sobbing, Amelia's glasses protruding out of the worn brown tweed, her afterword crumbled in his hand.

Why? Why this? Why, every time he had someone- a friend, a family- did the universe rip it away. After all he had done, all the worlds he had many, to many times. Some left, some died and some forgot he was ever there...or wished to. He couldn't...not another one. Why after all this time? They had lives! And River, Brian...Oh God.

He rocked back and forth, crying. His sobs once again full of the torment he tried so well to hide. It broke his hearts every time to see them go. He thought he this time was different. Wished it was. Stupid, _stupid _Doctor. He thought, of course it wasn't. It was that unfair.

**NO! **His mind screamed with angry resolve. It couldn't be...he had done to much. He jumped up a steely resolve with a mad glint in his eyes, straightening his bow tie, her ran towards the console. Pushing levers and throwing switched. He spinned the Atom Accelerator. Determined.

The TARDIS gave a huge groan of disapproval. But he would not be erred. Come. Along. Pond! With each of these he through levers. Groaning with the effort. He would get them back. **He would get them** _**back**__._ He charged furiously around, the TARDIS trying to stop him going to 1938. Manhattan. He would get them back.

The universe owed him that. He was owed so much. One thing. One thing. "Come on, sexy!" He shouted. Sparks flew, she hated it, could get there. But she had to. The Doctor took know notice, anger spurring him on. He would not let another go. The TARDIS heaved with the effort, sending the Doctor sprawling away from the console as the TARDIS moved, careering this way and that, hating the journey. He scrambled back to the console, holding on for dear life. He flicked the blue stabilizers.

_"Because you're my friend. My best friend." _

__He let out a scream of anguish as the TARDIS flamed around him, sparks flying and smoke pluming. He couldn't give up. **"Come ONNNNN! ONE THING! ONE THING!"** He looked upwards, praying. He had never prayed before.

But it was not to be. The fires grew to great and the TARDIS hated it. My Pond, he cried, tears falling fresh again. My Amelia Pond...

And so the TARDIS flew away, smoking, crashing and resetting its coordinates. And the Doctor sat down again in his now charred seat, crying and letting out howls of pain for his lost family. His Ponds.

_**Gone.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Guys! Taking a break from Mr and Mrs Song as this has been swirling in my mind. I highly doubt it is orignal but it's my take on it so I hope you like it!**

**- Heather x**

**DISCLAIMER (which I need to do more often) : I do not own the madness and awesomeness that is freaking Doctor Who. If I did the Ponds would be alive right now.**

**That Room**

The Doctor ran through the corridors, his eyes running ragged also as he searched for the all important camera room that was located somewhere. Then he stopped, like a puppet at the will of his master, his form stock still. Slowly, so slowly, he turned and looked down the passage.

The Doctor saw the door. Identical to those around it they very different. The number 11 was there, in shining gold letters, natured down. If the Doctor had any control of himself he would have chuckled quietly at the distinct irony and coincidence. Of course, what other number? If there was such a thing as coincidence here. No, everything was designed and the Doctor wanted to chuckle at it. But he didn't as he had no control.  
It was as though his vision had been shrunk, the wide focus of his eyes trimming down just to focus on the foreboding hotel room door. An invisible wire tugged at his hearts, willing him to step forward. Closer and closer, his tweed rippled with the movement and his flat, polished shoes taking liberate and careful steps. The wire pulled him. Closer and closer to the door.  
He was there.  
He was surprised his hand did not shake as he battled for will in his own head. It was a losing battle. His hand reached to clasp the golden doorknob and opened it. Just a crack, slowly as slow as the Space Derpop Snail. He looked.  
He looked at his worst fear.

Himself.

Of course. The Valeyard. The Monster. The room was filled with the blood of thousands. Coating beds, curtains, the carpets. Red and deep that it strayed towards the door opening, flowing from the darkened figure. The Doctor saw his own face. HIS face. Not the Doctors.  
It was aged, sunken with grey hair and beard, wearing blood soaked steampunk clothing. But his eyes were alive. Alive. With no remorse or regret or grief or pity or mercy. It was terrifying.  
The Darkness. The inevitable. The destruction. Of the whole universe.

Himself.

He let out a shaky breath.  
"Of course, who else?" The Doctor said to himself. He shut the door, carefully and found a sign and hung it.  
Walking of to find the camera room, the DO NOT DISTURB sign swaying behind him, guarding the Oncoming Storm's greatest enemy. Greatest fear.

Himself.

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**R&R Please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey- I felt I needed to upload something and so I wrote this quickly. May re-upload and edit later down the line but for now it is short and sweet.**

**Tell me what you think! - H x**

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Rory Williams sat on the cold bench crying to himself. No one was around, not that he cared, it didn't matter if he was surrounded by people if Amy wasn't among them. And he'd been with the Doctor long enough to know they couldn't come back for him.  
His head was in his hands, pressed against his thighs as he doubled over in grief.  
Oh Amy.  
He was stuck, the blasted stone angel had sent him back to the past and he didn't even know how it had been there. Everything had been fine. They'd broken the paradox, survived. They were supposed to laugh and clamber back into the TARDIS. Done and dusted.

"Amy." His voice was strained and hollow. He rocked forward, his hoodie slipping down slightly as crystal tears ran down his face like a torrent, soaking his cheeks. He looked up slightly to see a flock of haphazard pigeons paddling on the gritty ground, darting for crumbs. He saw a pair of shoes, brown and small, walk slowly.  
"Rory?" Spoke a voice. Rory's eyes widened as he looked up into a face he never thought he'd see again. Amy. Amy. Oh Amy. Fiery hair tumbled around a heart shaped face, her lips pink and agape. Her emerald eyes wide, and filled with tears that were rarely shed.  
"A-Amy?" He faltered, standing up quickly and taking a step towards her. "How?" She gave a weak smile.  
"Can't get rid of me that easily, you idiot." And then it clicked. Amy ran towards him, he sprinting to her, throwing their arms around each other. They hung on as though they needed the touch to breathe. It was then Amy knew she had made the right choice, it was always her Roman. Her Rory. She buried her face in his shoulder as his fingers ran through her fiery locks.  
They stood like that for a while; minutes, hours? They couldn't tell. All that mattered was that they were there and they were together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi Guys! I am having serious writing block over Mr and Mrs Song! So I thought I would do a one shot to keep you guys happy! A chapter for The Doctors is also in the works, I am about half way through that so expect it soon!**

**Anyway, this is just a fun little one shot. I love the Ponds!**

**Heather x**

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**Feared Beast**

The sky was a pale blue, not TARDIS blue, for nothing could compare to the bluest of blue that was coated on the outside of the mysterious box. Except, perhaps, the colour of the door it was appearing in front of. The TARDIS made the familiar noise as it faded in and out of view, finally landing on the ordinary street in front of a red car and a pale blue house with the bright blue door.

The door of the TARDIS opened with a creek, and out hopped and extraordinary man that you, I and he calls The Doctor. His tweed jacket was brushed down, his hair a messy, flyaway style and he wore a bright red bow tie and a grin. Walking briskly up the road towards the terraced house he turned in an almost military fashion and then proceeded up the garden path before sticking out a finger and ringing the shiny doorbell. It whistled and the door opened after a few seconds to reveal a red haired woman, with green eyes in jeans and green top with a dark blue fitted blazer. She smiled immediately upon seeing the Doctor's face.

"Where have you been?" said Amy Pond. She stepped aside and the Doctor went in, shutting the door behind him.

"What do you mean? I set the date for the day after we chatted on the phone." Said the Doctor, cheerfully.

"That was 2 weeks ago, numpty!" said Amy. They walked into the kitchen and Amy flicked on the kettle and sat down. The Doctor began rooting around in cupboards and she guessed immediately what he was looking for. "Jammie Dodgers are in the cabinet on the far right, Doctor." She said, softly laughing, he could be so predictable. He rooted around a bit more before locating them, a childish smile now plastered on his face as he ripped open the packet, sat down and devoured one in his mouth, making a small moan of contentment.

"S-ry, that'll be thu-thurmik riguleater..." He said, his words muffled. Amy laughed gain. He swallowed. "So, where is the Roman?"

"At work, he'll be back soon, though." Amy said, the Doctor sat back on his chair, his legs swaying.

"Jobs? My dear Ponds, what has happened to you?" He smiled.

"Ha, Ha. We had to. This is what normal people do when they don't have a time machine, Doctor!" Amy chuckled, before reaching over and grabbing a Jammie Dodger. Then the door slammed and Rory, with his broad nose and blond hair, shuffled in scrubs, clutching a roman lunchbox.

"'Lo." He said, before noticing the Doctor.

"Rory the Roman!" beamed the Doctor, standing up before enveloping him in a big hug, which Rory awkwardly returned, smiling wide as well.

"Hello, Doctor! What brings you here?"

"He was late again, wasn't he?" stirred Amy. Rory went around to her and bent over for a small kiss on the lips. The Doctor covered his eyes. Rory laughed and sat in the third seat, stretching and putting his lunch box on the kitchen counter. Amy got up and made tea.

"Ahhh, a good cuppa!" said the Doctor, rubbing his hands together as the red mug was placed in front of him. Then he shouted, suddenly. "WHAT THE HELL?!" Amy and Rory laughed.

"That's Cleo!" giggled Amy. The Doctor stood up oblivious to the comments as he drew the sonic and brandished it threateningly.

"Amy, Rory, get back. I don't know what it is but it's some sort of flesh creature!" He said backing away. Rory snorted.

"It's a CAT!" He said, trying to keep it together as he pointed to the sphynx cat tucked under the table that was stirring, its hairless body now slinking around the table legs. It was medium sized and it had an wide, pale green eyes that the Doctor instantly thought of the colour of slitheen goo and a sinister face. The Doctor was looking at it with a look of horror.

"That…that is not a cat!" He said, not putting down the sonic. Amy strode forward and snatched it away.

"Yes it is…it's a sphynx cat called Cleo. We are looking after it for Mrs Frobisher up the street." She said hotly, going to pick up Cleo. It mewed softly and buried its face into Amy's arms.

"Amy, it's going to eat you!" said the Doctor, stepping forward, ready to pull Amy out of the imminent fur-less danger. She scoffed and stroked the cat. Then she started a sly smile and Rory looked into his yellow mug. Oh, he knew that look. Amy stretched out her arms, holding Cleo aloft…right in the face of the Doctor who backed up sharply and nearly tripped over the potted plant.

"Stroke the kitty, Doctor." Said Amy, pouting. "You know you want to."

"Er….y'know what? I don't think I do…I- I think I will be fine over…just over here." He said, crashing into the china cupboard. Amy pursued him, holding Cleo aloft.

"Y'know, Doctor, for a Time Lord who has saved countless worlds gone against Daleks and Weeping Angels and the Silence. Not to mention, Cybermen and Flying Sharks…who knew you would be floored by a cat?" Rory laughed. Doctor pointed at the cat fervently, squirming.

"That is not a cat!" Amy stepped closer, the Doctor backed against the wall, trapped. Amy gave a victorious smile.

"Pet. The. Cat." The Doctor stretched out a shaking hand to touch the sphynx cat. Fingers touched skin.

10 minutes later…

"Ahhh…you're so sweet." Cooed the Doctor, who sat crossed legged on the Ponds sofa in the living room, Cleo firmly placed in his lap and the Doctor stroked her fervently, a guppy smile on his face.

Amy rolled her eyes.

"And you know the best thing?" said the Doctor, chuckling. "No fur on my tweed jacket!"

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**PLEASE REVIEW XX**


	6. Chapter 6

Everyone wants to travel with the Doctor. It's a fact. I mean, who wouldn't?

I do. I'd love to. Just to get out of here. Get out of homework and school and annoying brothers and walking the same carpets and pavements every day. Just to _see _something.

Because this can't be it. We know this isn't it. There are planets and worlds and galaxies we have no idea about. Imagine. Imagine taking that one step, with that barmy old Timelord and there you are. Off. Off on an adventure. And it's not just that. You are actually doing something! Saving people, hunting th- sorry, wrong fandom.

My point is…that it's a once in a lifetime opportunity. And, I guess for me, escape. I don't want to be stuck here. Stuck not knowing, stuck with my parents shouting down my ears, my brothers' taking my stuff.

The things I could see. The things I could do….there has to be more than this.

The Doctor. Such a simple name for a complex man. Not even a man, Timelord. And an actual alien! And he's funny and clever and bright and brilliant and fantastic and just…fun. All the time I feel so wound up. I've always been serious, in one way or another. I like to laugh I just don't do it often. I always feel I have this weight on me. Which I know, is weird for a 15 year old to say but still…that's how I feel.

And then there is him. Not a care in the world, most of the time. Off in his TARDIS, seeing things all the time, never stopping, always learning and most importantly…always living.

So, yeah. I've thought about the Doctor picking me up. The reason I love Doctor Who is because it's not like my other things I love. I never got my Hogwarts letter. I don't live in the Shire, or go to Starfleet Academy. But with the Doctor…

He picks humans. Proper, ordinary humans that turn out to be extraordinary. I guess that's what I want to be. Extraordinary. One of a Kind. Me.

So, Doctor…please. I'll be here.

- Heather


	7. Chapter 7

**This is my revised one shot: Together**

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Rory looked at his wife expecting an answer and then…she was gone. He looked around, dazed, energy sapped and his knees felt weak. He wasn't in a graveyard anymore. His heart thudded loudly in his ears as his stomach dropped. _Oh no. _He was in New York…in the 1930s. He didn't even know if it was 1938 or some other year. He looked around him, it seemed the same. Same trees, same skyline. But without Amy.

He wandered, finding Central Park and looking out across it. It wouldn't be soon until the Angels found him. Would they find him? Were they even here? He didn't think so.

Oh God. What was he going to do? He walked up to the edge of the fountain, looking down into the water, his rippling reflection staring back at him. He gave a small chuckling breath that then hitched in his throat as he stared down at the water.

_Stupid Face._

He turned his back to the fountain, leaning back on it slightly. What was he going to do? He was stuck He knew that. He kept his breathing calm and revised; allowing deep breaths and cutting them short if his breathing hitched. There was no use in completely freaking out.

He walked. Then he sat down on a cold, hard bench. Then he let go, crying to himself. No one was around, not that he cared; it didn't matter if he was surrounded by people if Amy wasn't among them. And he'd been with the Doctor long enough to know they couldn't come back for him. There was no way. Fixed points in time, alternate timelines and paradoxes and what else kept them apart. He placed his head in his hands and his back arched so that his hands pressed against his thighs as he doubled over in grief. Great gasps of sadness wracked his body as he remembered.

Oh Amy.

He was stuck, the blasted stone angel had sent him back to the past and he didn't even know how it had been there. Everything had been fine. They'd broken the paradox, survived. They were supposed to laugh and clamber back into the TARDIS. Done and dusted. Another adventure over, the next one ahead. A happy ending

"Amy." His voice was strained and hollow, lips dry. He licked them slowly. He rocked forward, his hoodie slipping down slightly as crystal tears ran down his face like a torrent, soaking his cheeks. He looked up slightly through his hands to see a flock of haphazard pigeons paddling on the gritty ground, darting for crumbs. He saw a pair of shoes, brown and small, walk slowly.

"Rory?" a voice, quiet and undeniably Scottish rang out. Rory's eyes widened as he looked up suddenly into a face he never thought he'd see again. Amy. It was Amy. Oh Amy. Fiery hair tumbled around a heart shaped face, her lips pink and agape. Her emerald eyes wide, and filled with tears that were rarely shed.

"A-Amy?" He faltered, standing up quickly and taking a step towards her. "How?" She gave a weak smile.

"Can't get rid of me that easily, you idiot." And then it clicked. Amy ran towards him, he sprinting to her, throwing their arms around each other. They hung on as though they needed the touch to breathe. It was then Amy knew she had made the right choice, it was always her Roman. Her Rory. Her Stupid Face. She buried her face in his shoulder as his fingers ran through her fiery locks.

They stood like that for a while; minutes, hours? They couldn't tell. All that mattered was that they were there and they were together. And everything was going to be alright.

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**REVIEW, PLEASE?**

**Heather x**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, now I had to do this. I mean come on. Ever since the minisode came out I have been dying to write it up fully. So I worked it into this...it will be multi chapter and I will post it as such on its own as well as a part of ****_One Shots in Time and Space _****and ****_The Doctors._**

**As Ever: Review!**

**Heather x**

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**Rain Gods: Part 1**

The signal from the console rang out, signalling that the TARDIS had landed. The Doctor looked to from where he had been sitting. He ran up to the console, darting to look at the screen. Yes, the date and time were correct- The Felix Galaxy, Planet Delta, on a nice summer day. The TARDIS was parked outside the Felician Archives, a place River had mentioned she had an internship at.

He powered down the screen, and looked at himself in the reflective black screen. It was wrong.  
He knew what he wanted to do. Flinging his arms out, he darted about away from th console to the corridors. First right, second left. He potted over to the wardrobe. Throwing off the tweed he stared at it for a moment in his hands. It was time; he couldn't hold on to the past, he had to embrace it. He couldn't wear it any longer- it was too painful. And with that thought in his mind, he threw the jacket over one of the many mirrors in the revamped wardrobe.

It's winding racks from the long gone coral theme had been replaced with mis-matched copper and crystalline doors with circular gallifreyan text telling the doctor what lay beneath. He opened a hatched and pulled out a grey waistcoat. Yes, this would do. He pulled it on and buttoned it before noticing a slight bulge in the small pocket. Opening it, he drew out a small watch. Handy. He fixed it onto the waistcoat and clipped his wristwatch off. He then walked around the maze of cupboards, doors and rails to find a purple tweed coat which he liked immensely.  
Yes. It was different. Different was good.

Was it? He looked over at the brown jacket on top of the mirror and walked over to place it in his hands. The material was worn now, just like him. No, he couldn't. He placed the purple on the mirror. Could he. He switched them. Looking between both, he sighed.

He had to. Step 1: Change. Change and then maybe it'll stop hurting. Anyway, he had to look nice for River. His smile broke out against his will. River would make it better, River always made it better.

He put on the purple tweed and dusted down his shoulders before tugging down the lapels. He walked with purpose to another mirror, leaving the other jacket crumpled on the floor and looked at himself.

He remembered his first thoughts, the first day of his regeneration, the first day with Amelia:

_"Let's see what we have then." He said before stepping in front and staring at his reflection. "Wow!" he exclaimed. It was all new. Not even a shred of the lanky nerd type he had been before. Shame, that regeneration had been good at running. He'd have to test this one later. But the chin! He stroked it, it was so odd. But not that big. Bigger than he had had but surely not that big!_

_"Blimey! The hair!" He cried, hands shooting up. Damn it, not even close to ginger. The hair was big too. Brown...again and floppy. He needed to brush it...and get rid of all his hair gel. But what are you gonna do? He was funny. He knew that. Funny...with a massive chin. He could work with that. He'd worked with less. He checked all over his body. He was glad he had all functional and ordinary body parts and limbs. A friend of his that had been on Gallifrey one regeneration and got 3 arms. Really useful for piano playing but the Doctor didn't want to play piano. Not now anyway._

_The mirror had a crack in the centre, so it was difficult to see the face. Wide nose, and deep set eyes and a curved mouth and- "My Eyebrows!" His hands flew to his new face, he rubbed around a bit before locating the small eyebrows and breathing a sigh of relief. He had eyebrows...that was good. That was cool._

Now he looked at himself again, at the end of that era. Because it was an era. Oh, it was. He looked at himself; donned in a new waistcoat, jacket and watch. It was new. It was different. Not a shred of old professor, more…Victorian gentleman. He reached a hand up to slick back his brown mop. He looked at his face, the chin now seemed normal to him, as though over time his face had sort of…gotten used to it. Was that a thing? He looked at his clothes. Yes. Good. Fine.

Different.

He turned and spotted the old jacket on the floor. He picked it up and drew out his sonic to place it in his pocket before strolling over and opening a cupboard, taking out a coat hanger and hanging the jacket on with the utmost care before putting it into the cupboard. Then he turned and walked away, not glancing back.

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**Ta Da! At this point the Doctor is really trying to move on. And for him the only one to do that is River. He needs to let go and have a little fun but at the same time is in odds with himself; should he go on? Amy and Rory meant so much to him and so the parallel is nice.**


	9. Chapter 9

**From the desk of Amelia Williams.**

When you meet a man like the Doctor it's like a firework display. He's so bright and clever and amazing. Not that I told him that. I should have.  
When you travel with him, he sort of...comes out. Like a flower blooming or to use my earlier excellent metaphor, a firework. He's so excited and brilliant and like a little kid. Back in the future (believe me that's as odd to write as you think) Rory used to say, during the year of the Slow Invasion, that we don't raise Melody (ish) but we raised the Doctor. That's true. But he's so old. Hundreds of years. I suppose if you're that old, there's nothing left but to act like a kid.

But then there were those moments. That hard to write...were, was, used to be. I still wake up thinking I'm in the TARDIS, expecting to here that idiotic din of the engines thrumming throughout the whole of the never ending blue box. In the first days aboard the TARDIS, I am got really properly lost. The Doctor found me though. Laughing his blinking chin off.

I don't know why I have to write this. Rory says it'll be good, closure, you know? So, this is me, wasting ink.

I wouldn't have changed it. My decision. After the angel zapped me, sort off, I found him in Central Park. Stupid Face was crying and then I cried. But it was ok. Because we were together, Rory and me, like it should be.

I will never forget the Doctor. I don't think it is possible. My Raggedy Man will always be with me…I just wish there was a way for me to tell him it was ok. That we found each other in the end. That we were happy.

I worry about him, a lot. I think that now we are gone, he won't be with anyone for a while. River will look after him but she's my daughter, so there will be times she won't be there. He'll be alone. And I have seen him after being alone and he should never be alone.

He once told me he was seared onto his hearts. I never tod him he was in mine though. For all his goofiness and childishness, he was my friend. My best friend.

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**Review please?**

**It only a short drabble I know but some comments would be nice and if you like my work and have any requests don't hesitate to ask. I'll also be posting this in my One Shots Through Time and Space Collection.**

**Heather x**


	10. Chapter 10

**A little drabble of our Ponds! Hope you like it. If you do, please review!**

**- Heather x**

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**Cup of Tea**

Amy huffed, leaning over the kitchen counter, her laptop perched atop of it. She wore a sky blue blouse kitted with some brown trousers and boots. Her fiery hair hung in great locks around her round face and she rested her chin on her hand. She chewed on her tongue slightly, browsing Facebook. Rory came in, popping his lunchbox down, shrugging his bag from the shoulder and sitting down at the kitchen table. He looked over at her, and frowned.

"You're doing it again." He said, turning in his seat to her. She looked up from where she was and smiled, her eyebrows furrowing, puzzled.

"Doing what?" She asked, hands going to her hips as she straightened up. Rory rolled his eyes.

"Looking at it." He said, pointing.

"I'm not looking at anything." She argued, folding her arms and walking over to him.

"Yes you are. Every 20 seconds or so, you glance over at the telephone." He said. Amy looked over at the telephone on the side.

"I do not!" She cried, her head spinning back round to him. He rested back into his wooden seat, eyebrows rising.

"Yes, Amy…you do. I've noticed."

"Fine…so what if I have?" She said, looking down at her fingernails. Since the Doctor had left, she was waiting for him to come back. She knows she shouldn't. She had her guy, a new job, friends, and a life. Even Brian came round once in a while, that always cheered her up.

"I miss him too you know." He grabbed a hand, placing his over hers and smiled.

"Yeah. I know." She ran her thumb over the top of Rory's palm, chewing her lip. "It's just…it's been 2 weeks!" She cried exasperated. She looked over at the phone again.

"Oh, come on, Amy!" He cried, exasperated. He kissed her hand, and stood up, moving over to the kitchen. He waited a moment before speaking again. "You're starting to sound like him."

"Am not!" She cried, spinning to face him.

"Ok, sure." He let out, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"What was that?" She replied, sternly, narrowing her green eyes.

"Nothing!" He winced, Amy Pond on the war path again.

"Good." She tilted up her chin, smugly.

"Right, cup of tea, missus?" said Rory, moving over to the kettle and flicking the switch. Amy stood up and moved behind him, encircling her arms around him and kissing his cheek.

"Don't mind if I do, Mr Pond!" She ordered like a sergeant. He grinned, turning in her arms and kissing her full on the mouth. She kissed back just as warmly. The kiss was quick but tender. He smiled as he stared into her eyes. She looked down. The kettle clicked. Rory turned and got out blue and white striped mugs and made the tea. He handed her a mug.

"Cheers!"


End file.
